


Making Amends

by GoodJanet



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Foreshadowing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: Lane extends an olive branch after he and Pete come to blows in "Signal 30."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a link if you need/want a refresher:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uM_88FfHcIo

There’s a knock at Pete’s door.

“Clara, I said no visitors!” Pete shouts.

He instantly regrets doing so as his head reels. He readjusts his ice pack on his split lip and hopes Clara will make the intruder leave. The door opens anyway.

Pete sits up from his supine position on his couch and opens his eyes. Lane is standing in the doorway, still looking rather disheveled himself.

“Come to finish me off?” Pete scoffs.

He lies back down.

“No, I’ve, ah, actually come to see if you were alright. May I come in?”

“Close the door. No need for an audience, though I’m sure you’d appreciate one.”

Lane closes the door and sits in the chair nearest the couch.

“Well, get on with it,” Pete says.

“I’m sorry? Get on with what, exactly?”

“Your apology.”

“Apology? That’s not why I’m here, Mr. Campbell.”

Pete sits up once more, failing to hide a groan and a grimace.

“Then why _are_ you here exactly? To gloat? Because I don’t need this, Lane. I don’t need you, and I don’t need Sterling-Cooper. I went to Dartmouth you know!”

Lane taps the tips of his fingers together, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He carefully chooses the next words he says.

“I’m not sorry that I struck you. But I am sorry about the circumstances that led up to it. I think it would be best if we remained gentlemen about this from now on.”

“I suppose that’s the best I’ll ever get from you, isn’t it?”

Lane smiles wryly.

“Probably. I do think it’s important that we maintain a healthy working relationship despite the events that transpired.”

Lane extends his hand.

“You know,” Pete begins. He switches which hand was holding the ice pack in order to properly, if reluctantly, shake Lane’s hand. Lane’s hand feels like fire after holding the ice pack for so long. “Even though you assaulted me today in plain view of Don and Roger and even Bert for Christ’s sake, I still respect you more than Draper. At least you did an honest thing.”

Lane’s smile falters.

“I don’t understand.”

Pete sprawls back against the couch, head tilted back so he was looking up at the ceiling. It made balancing the ice pack on his forehead and nose much easier. Pete chuckles humorlessly.

“It’s nothing. Just…Draper isn’t the man you think he is. And neither am I. If given half the chance, I think you’d like me. I was the one trying to hold on to that account, by the way.”

Lane wishes he could think of something to say, but he finds himself at a loss for words.

“Yes, well, I think I’d better—”

“It’s okay. You can go now. I won’t make a report against you or anything. It’s nice that you came by.”

Lane stands, but Pete makes no move to get up or bid him further farewell. Lane gets to the door, then turns around.

“Mr. Campbell, I don’t know what you feel you need to prove to Don or Roger or to me, and I’m aware this is not my place to say something, but I’m here to tell you that it’s unnecessary. At this point, your bravado is only going to hurt you, as I’m sure you can see. I think if you worked with the company instead of against it, you’d find yourself living a simpler existence.”

Pete snickers.

“Are you talking to me or to yourself?”

“If I’m being brutally honest, the both of us. But I’m sure I’ve taken up far too much of your time today, so I shall leave you in peace. Good afternoon, Mr. Campbell.”

Pete gives a casual wave, and Lane exits.

 _Well, it could have gone much worse,_ Lane figures. 

Lane takes a piece of paper out of his pants’ pocket and crosses Pete’s name off his list of people needed to make amends with. At the top, of course, were the creditors, followed by Rebecca and Joan.

 _There was still time,_ he thinks, repocketing the list and walking back to his office. _There was still time._


End file.
